


I Wanna Be Your Dog

by GiggleSnortBangDead



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Femslash February, Full Shift Werewolves, Kinda Sorta Beastiality, Masturbation, Tribadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiggleSnortBangDead/pseuds/GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an impressive, graceful manipulation of muscle and display of strength, the dogbeast (<em>wolf</em>) got to its feet, eyes locked with Lydia. Lydia felt herself crouching, despite her short skirt, to get level with her. She extended her hand through the bars, and the animal moved slowly, perfectly, towards her palm.</p><p>A cold nose met her hand, and then a warm, wet tongue met her fingers. Lydia was distantly disgusted with herself for being so disgusted with the situation. </p><p>"Do you want to come home with me?" she asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Be Your Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a Stooges song. Seriously un-beta'd. Tagged bestiality just to be careful.

Lydia and her family had only held a "family meeting" once - when Grandma Martin had gotten sick. Even then, it had mostly been so her father, coat slung over one arm, well-packed suitcase in hand, could say goodbye before boarding a plane to look over said dying relative for an indeterminate amount of time. There had been a kiss on the forehead and a little nip of his fingers on her cheek, and then he was out the door, Lydia blinking at her mother in confusion.

So, years later, when her parents called her into their living room for a second time, sitting on the couch with matching, grave expressions, it was understandable that she could only imagine the worst.

"Lydia, how was school?" her mother asked - and Lydia knew that wasn't the issue because she got perfect marks, was more than active enough for a sophomore, and had no conflicts with teachers. 

Regardless, she said a succinct, "Fine." and waited for an explanation. Her parents exchanged a look. 

"Kitten," as her father liked to call her "We've got some bad news."

"I thought so." she nodded, gazing between them expectantly.

"Right, well, Ladybug," as he liked to call her, "It's about your dog."

Lydia's chest tightened immediately, and she felt that pulling sensation behind her eyes that meant she was about to embarrass herself. She blinked it back and maintained an even tone. "What about Prada?"

"Honey, I'm sorry." her mother said, all sincerity and sympathy, head tilted and shaking a little as she said, "Prada was hit by a car while you were at school. Your father took her to the vet, but it was already too late."

"Why didn't you call me?" Lydia managed, wiping under an eye, hoping they didn't notice.

Her father did, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. "Princess," as he liked to call her when trying to soothe her messier emotions. "You were in class. School is more important than - "

"Tom." his wife cut him off, and gave him a look and a slight shake of the head. Lydia, her face heated - especially her eyes which she thought must look redder than fire and uglier than sin - tried to smooth out her expression. She only ended up making a slight, gasping noise that drew her parents' attention back to her, her lips trembling. 

"How did she get out of the house?" she choked.

Her father cleared his throat. "That would be my fault, Kitten. I, uh, accidentally left the door open."

"I can't believe this." Lydia said to herself, assuming the sentiment to be a thought until she heard her own, sorrowed voice.

"I can," her father started, uneasy, as if not understanding, "Take you to the vet to see her if you want."

"Why would I want to see my dead dog?" she snapped, flipping her hair back expertly despite the mess she was quickly becoming. "She was _hit by a car_."

"We can get you a new dog." her father offered with a hopeful smile. He missed his wife's look of extreme disapproval and continued on. "A puppy. You loved taking care of Prada when she was a puppy."

And Lydia, unable to contain herself any longer, let out a wracked sob, her hands flying to her face to shield everyone from her scrunched up eyes and patchy red cheeks and twisted mouth.

Her mother cooed, rising from her seat on the couch and moving to her side, wrapping an arm around her daughter's shoulders, petting and shushing. "You don't have to think about that yet. Why don't you take a Valium and lie down?"

Lydia nodded, because that was the thing to do, and excused herself to the bathroom and the medicine cabinet. She went to bed, crying, alone, with no small, softly breathing friend to keep her side warm.

* * *

Lydia humored her father, even though her mother had explicitly said she shouldn't, and went with him that weekend to find a new dog. Of course, that didn't mean she was good-tempered about it.

"We can go see Earnest Briggs." he told her earnestly. "You remember Earnest."

"The dog breeder we got Prada from?" Lydia clarified. Her father nodded hopefully. "Better not. I doubt he'd appreciate that we got the last one he sold us killed. He'll know we should have gotten at least three more years out of her. Just take me to the pound."

"But, Kitten - " 

"Pound." she declared, fixing him a look that kept him quiet the rest of the car ride.

At the pound, her father went to ask about puppies as Lydia let herself into the kennels. It was noisy and smelled like dog hair and kibble. One mutt wagged its tail and barked at her. She shushed it and it barked again, so she huffed and moved on. 

Cage after cage, she passed dogs (no puppies) and they all seemed to be some kind of mix. She was ready to give up when she came to the last kennel where a dog much bigger than the others had curled into itself, seeming to be asleep.

As she stopped in front of the bars and laid her hand to cold metal (in direct violation to the strict Keep Your Hands Away From the Cages rule) the beast - because how could _that_ be a _dog?_ \- opened its eyes and raised its head to her. It's - _Her_ , Lydia knew - eyes glowed yellow and Lydia had never seen an animal with eyes quite like that before.

In an impressive, graceful manipulation of muscle and display of strength, the dogbeast ( _wolf_ ) got to its feet, eyes locked with Lydia. Lydia felt herself crouching, despite her short skirt, to get level with her. She extended her hand through the bars, and the animal moved slowly, perfectly, towards her palm.

A cold nose met her hand, and then a warm, wet tongue met her fingers. Lydia was distantly disgusted with herself for being so undisgusted with the situation. 

"Do you want to come home with me?" she asked.

"Lydia, there you are - _What are you doing?_ " he father nearly cried, rushing to her side, an attendant close behind him. "What _is_ that? Take your hand back!"

Lydia did pull back and straightened, finally looking away from the animal. "I found my dog." she said.

" _That_ is not a dog." her father said firmly. "That's a wolf." He turned angrily on the man behind him. "Why are you keeping a wolf? I could report you for this."

The man put both hands up in a placating gesture. "It's not a wolf, boss. I swear. The guy who dropped it off said that a wolf mated a Husky." 

"So it's only _half_ a wolf?" he father spat.

"Man, chill."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Daddy." Lydia snapped. "I don't care. I want her."

"Now, I don't know." the attendant said slowly. "That dog bit its last owner. 'S why she's back here."

"See, Kitten. Come on; Mr. Harvey here told me there's some Chow puppies. Just a few months old."

"If I remember correctly," Lydia said, crossing her arms and staring him down. "This is _my_ dog that you are buying for _me_ after _you_ let my other one out and it _died_. So, _I_ want _this_ dog. Get me this one."

"Honey, I'm not sure - "

"I am." Lydia assured him, turning back to her new pet. "All I'm undecided about is her name."

"Ladyb - "

"Perfect!" She perked up. "Lady! Daddy, you're the best!" On her tiptoes, she leaned up to peck a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you! Lady and I will be waiting for you while you settle the bill." She turned her attention to the slightly stunned (possibly stoned) attendant. "Can you go fetch Lady's collar and leash?" And he stood frozen next to her father until she huffed, saying " _Now._ " She smiled to Lady as they scattered, and Lady, sitting back on her haunches, panting, seemed to smile back.

* * *

Lady settled in well. The Martin's backyard was big enough to satisfy her needs that weren't fulfilled by the nightly walks around the neighborhood with Lydia. She hated her dog food, but Lydia never gave her one coo of sympathy and so she stopped sulking after a while.

"I don't understand. Did they feed you venison at your last house?" she asked, hands carding through Lady's fur as they lay together on Sunday night. Lady had taken a space at Lydia's side, as if nervous to get too close to her. She shot the girl a look, and, if dogs could be mildly amused, Lydia would have sworn that Lady was. But that was ridiculous because that would mean that Lady had understood her, which was impossible. 

The lights were off and the mix of Lady's warm fur and Lydia's electric blanket were making her helpless to her own, slow drifting off. Prada had never felt so warm, and Lady's weight on the bed was more like sleeping with another person and held the same comfort. Lydia's hand in Lady's fur stilled, not petting any longer, but holding the dog closer. She swore, and the thought would be forgotten in the morning as she was effectively asleep anyway, that Lady's fur started to feel like soft, naked skin the longer she kept her hand there.

* * *

"What the fuck is that?" Jackson bitched Monday afternoon, entering Lydia's room where Lady had been laying on the bed.

"That's Lady." Lydia hummed, walking over to the bookshelf and rearranging the books so they were in the correct order. She'd have to talk to her sister about snooping again. 

"What happened to Prada?" he asked, eyeing the dog on the bed warily. She had lifted her head up, looking back at him, sizing him up, carefully evaluating prey and how easy he would be to take down.

Lydia froze and shot him an icy look. "I sent you a text." 

"Yeah, you said Prada was at the vet's."

" _No_." she glared. "I said that she'd been hit by a car and my father had _taken_ her to the vet's where she _died_." Jackson almost looked guilty. "I thought you understood that. You asked if I needed you to come over."

"And you said no." Jackson shrugged. "So we're all fine."

Her eyes narrowed and even Lady, still on the bed, made a huffing, displeased sound. "Prada's not fine." 

"I'm not sure that's a dog." Jackson changed the subject, gesturing to Lady. 

"And, I'm not sure I'm your girlfriend anymore." Lydia hummed offhandedly, flipping her hair as she glided over to her mirror. "Not tonight anyway. I changed my mind," she said, eyes darting to the boy only once. "I'm not in the mood for this." 

Jackson became suddenly repentant, and closed in behind her. He met her eyes once in the mirror and then turned his attention towards. He, sweet and tactile and warm, ran a hand over her bare shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. I said I was sorry."

"Did you?" Lydia huffed. 'I must have missed that." But his mouth was at her neck and his hands were brushing her hair over her shoulder and tilting her head back. 

"I _am_ sorry." he promised. "Let me make it up to you." and he sucked a little too hard, which felt nice, but she spun on her heel and smacked him lightly on the chest. 

"No marks." she scolded. And he grinned, thinking he'd won, so she turned away again. "You're taking me out tonight."

"Now?" he asked, looking disheartened. 

"No, not now." she scoffed. "I _said_ tonight. It's four in the afternoon. Why would I want to get dinner now?" 

"So, later." he clarified. 

" _Yes_." she said, eyes widening in frustration. " _Later_."

"So," he hummed, hand rubbing down her back to ruck up the hem of her dress. " _After?_ "

"Yes." she said, eyes darting to Lady on the bed, who was still watching intently. 

"So, I'll eat out and then you will." Jackson grinned, like a dog (which was unfair because Lydia had only had Lady for a few days and was still sure she had more class than her boyfriend).

"You're disgusting." she told him.

He feigned confusion. "Does that mean you _don't_ want me to go down on you?" 

Lydia stared at him for a moment, then said, turning towards the bed, "Lady, get out." 

Lady growled softly and rested her head on her paws, in direct refusal. Lydia put on hand on her hip and pointed at the door with the other. "Now, Lady, or we have you spayed. I read the paper the shelter gave us thoroughly - I know you're not." 

Her dog got up and hopped off the bed like it was nothing, like it was her choice, and padded out of the room. 

"Spay her anyway." Jackson said as Lydia shut the door. "You don't want little monster dog pups running around, fucking up your furniture, mauling guests." 

"Don't assume you know what I want." Lydia said, slipping off her panties and coming to the bed to lie down in a dog-warmed space. "Come on, boy." she said, as Jackson stalked towards the bed, one hand coming to rest on her soft, bent knee. "Heel."

* * *

After dinner, Jackson dropped her off and offered to say the night. Lydia refused, saying she had homework (which was a lie) and was done with him for the night (which was not). She flopped onto her bed, stomach down, where she had laid on her back just hours ago, this time with Lady at her side.

"Sorry about earlier." she said offhandedly, fishing around on the floor for her calculus text book for more practice problems. "We might have you spayed, but it's wrong to use it as a threat. So, I apologize - and I'm talking to a dog. Fantastic work, Lydia." She rolled her eyes at herself. Lady whined, low, softly, in her throat, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

A lick. Not a kiss. Dogs don't kiss, they _lick_ , she reminded herself. She didn't know why it had felt so different. 

"Must be tired." she hummed to herself, eyes locked with Lady. She didn't think she'd ever seen eyes that pretty, even on a human. "Not sleeping enough." Lady huffed, puffing up for a second and then settling again. She put her head on her paws and closed her eyes, as if sleeping, and then squinted at Lydia, tailing thumping lazily. Lydia almost started gaping, because it was like her dog could understand her - and wolves were smart but not hat smart. 

"Guess I'm going to bed early tonight." she frowned, putting her text book away and changing. Lady watched Lydia very carefully as she stripped naked and slipped on a nightgown. 

"Bizarre." she sighed to herself, but climbed into bed next to her anyway. He fingers threaded through Lady's fur, like they always did, but she slept even closer, her nose pressed against Lady's neck. She smelled so utterly different from Prada, who had smelled like dog and dog shampoo. Lady smelled like dog and earth and the forest. It was nice, calming, but Lydia still murmured, half-asleep, "Gotta give you a bath," to which Lady snorted.

Lydia just wrapped her arm a little tighter around her dog, who was so big, and drifted to sleep.

* * *

"I'm not trying to say he's _bad_ at oral." Lydia said, bringing a cup of warm water up to pour over Lady's fur. She was much calmer than Prada had ever been - getting into the tub and sitting still without whining at all. "And, I certainly don't mind telling someone what to do. He can get me off after a while, but..." she sighed, petting a hand down Lady's back and scooping another cup of water.

"He hasn't really improved. He follows directions fine, but he doesn't commit any of it to memory. For once, I'd like to get fucked well enough that I can't speak and, more importantly, don't need to."

Lady leaned forward to lick at Lydia's upper breast, exposed as she'd stripped down to her bra and panties for the bath. Lydia's mouth pinched in reluctant amusement. "Thanks." and Lady bumped her nose over her heart. "Oh, that's cold!" she said, laughing, playfully pushing Lady's head away. Lady, panting, tail wagging in the water, put her paw on the edge of the bathtub for leverage. She snuck a quick kiss on Lydia's mouth, which was wiped off with an exaggerated show of disgust. 

"That's a bad girl." Lydia scolded, but didn't sound like she meant it. She reached back into the tub for another cupful of water. Lady looked all too pleased with herself.

* * *

Wednesday night, she came home late and found Lady sitting by the door. Upon entering, Lady stood and whined and growled, seeming to be reprimanding Lydia for not coming home when Lady thought she should. She barked once when Lydia did nothing but stare at her. 

"I think you misunderstand the nature of this relationship." Nevertheless, she dropped to her knees in the middle of the entryway and smoothed back Lady's ear, petting down her neck. Lady nosed at her throat, still whining. 

"Come on, now. You're smarter than that." Lydia told her, pulling back a little, hands still ruffling and unruffling her fur. "You knew I'd come back."

Lady looked away as if embarrassed and then turned to lead the girl to her own bedroom.

"We're going have to get you over this. I spend the night at Jackson's most Fridays." Lady paused and stared back at her, mouth shut. Lydia rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't give me that look." 

She came to her bedroom, and the door was open, which was odd because she left her door shut and her sister generally remembered to shut it after a snooping session. She made another note that they'd have to have a discussion about privacy next time she saw her. 

Lady settled calmly on her bed and watched her do her homework. They took a late walk and Lady growled at everyone who came close. Prada had always been so friendly, which is nice in a dog, but more and more, Lady seemed to only like Lydia. Lydia was pretty sure that made Lady the best dog she'd ever had.

* * *

Thursday morning, going through her closet, she found a long, dark hair on one of her dresses. It was too long to be her mother's, and too dark to be her sister's. She felt a wave of icy displeasure sweep over her as she realized her sister must have let a friend try on Lydia's things. She considered keeping the hair as evidence, but then looked at her hairbrush and found that it had similar, dark strands covering her own.

She wrote her sister a passive-aggressive text (as her door was shut and Lydia respected that kind of privacy) and left for school.

In English, her sister sent back a confused message, reminding her that she'd left for college after her break ended, two weeks ago. Lydia thought about it and remembered that she hadn't actually seen her sister in a while and that her being gone made sense. She had been fairly scattered lately, what with Prada's death and the animals attacks and this faint, warning hum creeping up her spine and settling at the base of her skull that she couldn't quite explain.

Maybe it was stress. She figured she could cut back on studying, at least for the next few days. 

And the next day, she gave Jackson a vague excuse as to why she wasn't staying at his house that night. She wasn't feeling up to it, so she said: "Mom and Dad are gone for the weekend. I have to feed Lady."

"Your parents are gone?" Jackson grinned. Lydia kept herself from rolling her eyes.

"Yes." 

"Gone for the weekend?" 

She gave him a hard look.

"I'll come to your place then." 

She just shrugged. "Fine. You should rent _The Notebook_ before you come over."

"Babe, there's a party tonight and - " another carefully cool look cut him off. "I'll get your movie." he grumbled.

"Great." she smiled, and pat him twice on the arm before turning, flipping her hair, and leaving him in the hall.

At her house, in her bed, Jackson was doing _something_ with his mouth hand hands that seemed overzealous. He was rutting his hard self against her thigh and, just as Lydia was reaching between them to get him off, he stopped abruptly.

"What?" she snapped.

"Your dog is watching us."

Lydia looked to the side to see that Lady was, in fact, staring at both of them, eyes glinting bright in the dark. She sighed, settling back against the pillow as Jackson grew increasingly uncomfortable.

"Lady, go." she ordered, and Lady stayed put. She sighed, "Just ignore her," and reached down again to hold him.

"Are you crazy?" Jackson spit. "It's fucking weird."

"Prada used to watch us all the time and you never cared."

"Prada watched us?" Jackson balked.

Lydia huffed. "All the time, Jackson. Jesus, how did you not notice that?" 

"Well, I was a little preoccupied with something else." he sneered, pulling up fully.

"What are you doing?" Lydia narrowed her eyes.

"Not fucking _this_." he said, fishing around on the ground of his pants. "I'm going to that party."

" _What?_ You're just _leaving?_ "

"That's the idea." he said, straightening out his shirt. 

"Well," Lydia shot, rising up on her elbows. "Don't expect to see me again this weekend." 

" _Fine_." Jackson spat. "Maybe I'll hook up with someone _else_. I hear Allison's going." 

And she was on her feet as well, finding a robe and pulling it on. "Maybe I'm breaking up with you."

Jackson scoffed and starting walking through her house to the door. "Right. You'll be begging me back Monday." 

"You'll be begging me." 

"Sure," Jackson snarled, the word obviously disingenuous. He wrenched the door open and paused. "Have fun with your dog. You know, I hear if you put peanut butter in your - " 

"Get out." Lydia snapped, forcibly pushing him away. He laughed and left and Lydia glowered at the door. Before she realized it, Lady was at her side, nosing at her fingers.

"You're absolutely right." she said, hand smoothing down Lady's ears. "Who needs him? You know," she said, conversationally, looking down, "He's obsessed with manscaping." Lady snorted in amusement and Lydia, still bitter, nodded once. 

She made herself a drink and popcorn and watched the rented copy of _The Notebook_ that Jackson had left (and vowed to not return it until he apologized). Lady clambered up onto the couch next to her, draping herself over Lydia's lap. She was a better movie watching partner than Jackson was anyway.

* * *

Lydia fell asleep on the couch after her third drink and the credits started to roll. She didn't remember getting up and walking to her room, but, when she'd woken up a few hours later, just after two, she was tucked under the covers of her bed. Lady was sprawled over her, heavy on her chest, and she had been changed out of her clothes and into a night gown. Lady's breath was hot and wet at her neck, and she smelled good, like the forest and Lydia's shampoo.

She still didn't know how she got there. She could remember some blurry, vaguely erotic dream of a warm, naked, strong girl picking her up and taking her to her room. She could feel the unreasonable, swelling sorrow that the beautiful girl was not with her pooling in her chest. The memory of the girl's heat and her softness, as Lydia, in her dream, had clutched at her and wriggled just a little closer, made Lydia feel an unreasonable swelling pool just a little lower.

She groaned and pushed at Lady, nudging her off. The weight and warmth was too much like having another person curled up against her. Lady growled some sleepy, irritated noise, and shifted so she was more firmly settled over the girl. 

"Lady, come on. Up." Lydia wriggled out form under her. Lady, whining softly, did pull up and resettled, still pressing close to the girl, cold nose at her neck. 

Lydia turned on her side, facing away from her dog. Thighs pressed tight together, her hips rocked in a hard, aborted circle, her legs sliding down the bed. Sighing softly at the pressure, she looked over her shoulder at Lady. In the dark of the room, Lydia almost thought she saw Lady shut her eyes quickly, as if she'd been caught spying, but that would have been ridiculous. 

Regardless, one hand coming down to grope and pet a few fingers over the front of her panties, Jackson's parting comments left her feeling a little too uncomfortable to keep her dog so close during.

"Lady, off." Lydia said, rucking her nightgown up and sliding down her panties. Lady made no sign that she'd heard. Lydia sighed. "Get off the bed." Lady looked like she'd fallen back asleep, her breath even and her eyes closed, and it didn't make sense for a dog to fake sleep, so Lydia turned back on her side. She reached to open her bedside drawer, quietly, puling out her bottle of K-Y and slicking her first two fingers. 

Her hand dipped down between her legs, finger coming to spread and then pet herself, starting to circle at her clit. She kept her breath as steady and silent as she could, rolling into the touch of her own fingers only when she couldn't help herself. The fingers of her free hand were tucked under her cheek, her eyes drifting shut, toes curling as her legs bent up a little more. 

Lady huffed next to her, sidling up a little closer, warm at her back. Lydia groaned, because her dog's heat felt like regular body heat, which was seriously messing her up. "Lady, I said - " and her words were cut off as she felt an arm curve around her waist and a warm hand cover her own. Slick fingers mingled as she was rubbing herself to climax. There was a hot mouth at her shoulder and it felt so _nice_ , that that was all, Lydia's hips jerking slightly, her breath gasping out, and that other person's arm tightened its grip on her.

Just as she was coming down, brain hazy post-orgasm and still muddled with arousal, she was being nudged onto her back. The hot mouth was back, now sucking hard to leave a mark and Lydia was moaning, her hands clutching at this person's naked upper arms, not sure if she was trying to keep them close or push them away.

Her eyes flew open at the thought, and she did push the person (girl, very naked, very lovely _girl_ ) back. 

Lydia didn't often lose her words, but she did as she stared into the other girl's glowing yellow eyes.

" _Lady?_ " Lydia sputtered, and she'd officially lost her mind, because Lady was a dog and this girl was most certainly not. Nevertheless, the girl gave her a quick smile, and then went back to watching her intently.

"Cora." she corrected, and her voice seemed a little garbled, like she hadn't spoken in a while. Lack of use from being a dog, Lydia guessed. She could feel hysterical laughed bubbling in her throat - right next to where her heart had gotten stuck - and she swallowed it down.

"Cora." she repeated, shakily. The girl hummed softly and went back to nuzzle Lydia's wet throat. "No, stop that." she snapped, pushing her back again. Cora whined, and it sounded just like how _Lady_ had whined. 

"You're not a dog." Lydia told her.

"You think?" Cora sounded amused, but looked relatively straight-faced, and she laved Lydia's collarbone down to her left nipple, sucking and kissing the bud into her mouth. Lydia almost said something, but it came out a groan as Cora got her nipple between her teeth and _tugged_.

Lydia, moaning, managed out, "You need to stop."

Cora pulled up, arms bracketing the other girl so she was over her. Her (very nice, surprisingly well maintained) eyebrows knit together and she asked a genuine, "Are you sure?"

"Oh, I - " Lydia hesitated, because Cora was so close and warm, and she smelled good. She grinned and bowed her head again, kissing down Lydia's chest and stomach and hip and, bending the girl's leg up, sucking softly at her inner thigh. She was biting a trail up and center when Lydia got both of her hands in her hair and jerked her up. 

She was expecting Cora to bitch or snap, because Lydia hadn't been careful or gentle. She had not expected the _whine_ and the rolling thrust forward of Cora's hips into air, like the rough guidance was actually enjoyable.

Lydia didn't know why, but she was suddenly leading the other girl down to her lips, kissing her hard and open-mouthed. Every part of Cora was warm, and she was an eager kisser, which was frightfully endearing. Lydia kept a firm hold in Cora's hair, delighting in the soft, pleased hum she made. 

Cora's own hands reached up to hold Lydia's wrists, fingers curling delicately, her body pressing steady weight over Lydia's small frame. Smoothly, effortlessly, Cora extracted Lydia's hands from her hair and pinned her wrists to the bed, kissing down her chin and jaw and landing back at her neck. She pulled one hand back, and Lydia kept her hands above her head, wriggling on her back helplessly, until she saw where the other girl's hand was drifting. 

"I hope you're not planning on putting that anywhere near me." Cora paused to look up with no small amount of confusion. "I have no idea where your hands have been."

Cora's brow furrowed momentarily until a look of understanding seemed to cross her face. She slid down the girl's body, bring her lips and tongue to where her fingers had been directed.

Lydia grabbed her hard by her hair again, which Cora didn't seem to think was all that bad but did stop her. "I certainly don't know where your mouth has been."

Cora smiled with all her teeth. "Want me to get up and brush my teeth?" Her hands fell to Lydia's knees, spreading them apart, hooking one over her hip as she left the other leg to rest on the bed. Lydia wasn't afforded enough time to respond because Cora was pulling her down the bed, hips brought tight together, rocking herself against the girl's cunt in a quick thrust.

Between unintentional moans, Lydia was able to gasp out, "You can't be - " until Cora shushed her and reattached her mouth and teeth and tongue to her throat. Keeping up a steady, hard roll, she only tightened her grip, on on Lydia's hips, when she started to get loud.

"Oh, _God_ \- You _can't_ \- " Lydia murmured, head falling to the side to allow Cora more space to mark as she said, "It'll bruise and people will _know_ \- " and her voice broke off into something high and soft as Cora kept rubbing them together, trying to push her over the edge. One arm slid under Lydia's back, drawing their chests close, providing new leverage as she fucked against her. Lydia was starting to feel boneless, like a ragdoll, held up by nothing but Cora's arms, which were surprisingly strong. 

"God, you're so _wet_." Lydia whined, and Cora made some thin sound of amusement, hips circling. 

Against her sensitive skin, Cora's breath ticking, she harshed, "Do you always talk this much?'

"Oh, fuck y - _Oh_." and, Cora back to creating a ring around her neck, her hands flew to the other girl's hair to keep her near. "I'm gonna - I think I'm gonna - Please don't st - _ah_."

Cora was rocked up, pressed completely against her, her second arm meeting her first, pulling Lydia into some sort of embrace. "Come on, do it." Cora said, eyes bright and yellow and half lidded. "I wanna watch." 

Which Lydia couldn't argue with, though she did turn her face away in embarrassment, eyes scrunched tight, everything whiting out and jerking to a stop as she came. She could feel Cora bring a hand between them to rub herself off, as Lydia regained her breath, and then slumping on top of her.

After a moment, Lydia was pushing her off. "Who _are_ you? You need to explain - "

"Shh." Cora said, eyes shut, rolling off of her to drape over Lydia's side, wrapping her arms around her and pressing a kiss onto her shoulder. 

"Don't _shh_ me." Lydia snapped. "You have to - "

"Tomorrow." Cora said, breath hot as she spoke. "Sleep now." 

Lydia sighed but was pulled closer, and the warmth and Cora's scent were both too soothing for her to keep up any sense of urgency. She sighed and let herself fall back to sleep for the night, feeling safe and held and less confused than she, distantly, recognized she should feel.

* * *

In the morning, she was still naked but now under the covers with Lady at her side. Lady the dog and not Cora the human girl.

Lydia reached forward and shook Lady awake. She blearily looked at the girl. "Cora. Come on." Lydia ordered. "Turn back. You said we'd talk."

Lady just looked at her and then turned over on her other side.

" _Lady_." Lydia demanded. "Turn back now." Her dog just huffed and seemed to sleep again. 

"Lady," she said, very calmly, "If you don't turn back now, I'll have you spayed." Lady looked over her shoulder, seeming unimpressed, and Lydia relented. "Oh, fine. I'll figure out _something_ to get you back." Her dog snorted.

Lydia glared at her for a moment and then threw back the sheets. "Fine. We'll see how long you last without being able to join in." She reached for her bottle of lube, which was still out from hours before. 

When she turned back, Lady was on her stomach, gazing at her with some interested, as if waiting to watch. 

Lydia rolled her eyes and tried to quash any feelings of amusement which flared as she slicked up her fingers and laid back. Cora would have to show her face again. Eventually. And Lydia was just fine with playing patient.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really, really wanted to post some femslash, but I've been crazy busy. So, I hope that was alright. Thanks for reading! Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Shameless tumblr plug: [My Blog](http://gigglesnortbangdead.tumblr.com/)


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